These Foolish Things
by Kefirah
Summary: post-COE. Like the song, these are ways that Jack remembers Ianto. Not song-fic, though.
1. Sunset

**Summary: **I was thinking of the song "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You) and these stories came out of it. Just ways that Jack remembers Ianto.

**Characters**: Jack H, Ianto J.

**Pairing**: Jack/Ianto

**Rating**: T

**Spoiler**: COE

**Setting**: Post-COE

**Warnings**: none

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters or plotlines, nor do I receive money from stories. Any similarity of OC's to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. Thanks as always to my muse, my friend and my talented beta, **Triquetralin**.

**A/N**: I'll be posting these together as chapters, but they can each be taken as separate stories.

**These Foolish Things- Sunset**

_The phone beeped softly in Jack's ear. He ignored it and kept writing. The Hub was finally quiet after 10 days of manic energy. The rift had been unusually active, spewing anomalies of time and space into Cardiff like a tap on full-blast. The entire Torchwood team had been run ragged. With everything finally quiet, Captain Jack Harkness had sent everyone home, chuckling as nearly all of them had run each other over getting out. Like kids being let out early from school they didn't want to give their captain time to change his mind._

_Ianto Jones, general dogsbody, Hub manager and more, had been the last to go, unwilling to leave his boss and lover working while everyone else relaxed. He protested and argued, but Jack pushed him out and was finally able to sit down and start on the reports the past days had generated._

_The ear-piece beeped again. Groaning in frustration, Jack reluctantly tapped the receiver on. "What is it?"_

_"Sir, could you come out here, please?"_

_Ianto again. He was the only one to call him "sir". Despite their budding relationship, he still kept things formal in public._

_"I'm up to my elbows in paperwork, Ianto. I don't need another alien disaster added to it."_

_"It's important, sir. You have to see this."_

_Ianto's warm furry accent tickled Jack's ear. He was sorely tempted. He thought of asking him to describe what was happening, just to listen to him, but the young Welshman was frustratingly laconic. Besides his curiosity was perked._

_He gave a long, heavy, reluctant sigh even as he smiled, shrugging into his long coat. "All right, I'm on my way."_

_He took the long way out, up the elevator and through the dark stone hallways leading to the small, shabby tourist information office that was the Torchwood cover. The tiny office led out to the most inconspicuous corner of the Cardiff Bay docks._

_A soft breeze met him as he came out onto the pier. It was a lovely spring evening. Everything was tinged with orange and peach as the sun set. He saw Ianto, graceful limbs lolling against the railings at the edge of the pier, eyes far away. He strode across, slowly, enjoying the view, but with an eye to what might be happening. Nothing was instantly apparent, but maybe he had missed the action._

_"What's up?" He tucked his long military coat back, hands thrust into his pockets, but he relaxed enough to let his hip brush against the tall man._

_Ianto glanced up, eyes squinting against the low sun, and smiled. He gestured across the city, westward into the sunset._

_Jack looked. The soft clouds were sparkling, a trick of the setting sun; purple, orange and red running together like a spilled palette. He blinked against the light, but could see nothing in the sky except a few screaming seagulls._

_"What am I supposed to be seeing?" He let a touch of irritation slip into his voice._

_"The sunset." Ianto's face was still turned towards the sky, but Jack caught a glimpse of a smug smile._

_"You brought me out here for the sunset?"_

_"Yep."_

_One thing about Captain Jack, he knew when he was beat. Laughing, he matched Ianto's pose, leaning on the railings, letting more of his body slide closer. "Bastard," he murmured, rewarded by Ianto's deep chuckle._

_They stood there, in silence, as darkness slowly enfolded them. As the city lights came up, sparkling in the deepening plum sky, Jack sighed again, this time with a sense of satisfaction. He had needed a moment of peace and beauty. Trust Ianto to help him find it. He turned and placed his lips briefly against his lover's shoulder._

_"Thanks, Ianto. I needed that." He stretched reluctantly and looked towards the Hub entrance, not making a start towards the door just yet._

_"Want to get some dinner before you start again?" Ianto suggested. "We could go to Bassam's..."_

_"No, I need to get back to it." He gave Ianto a warm smile to take the sting out of his refusal. Letting his eyes fill once more with the beautiful man, he turned back towards the Hub._

_Ianto stayed at the railing, a grin starting. He seemed to be waiting for something and was quickly satisfied as he heard a muffled shout coming from the Tourist office._

_Jack burst out the door. Even at this distance, Ianto could see the anger building on his face. He held his ground as Jack stormed over._

_"What did you do? I can't get in."_

_"I locked down the Hub."_

_"Wha-? Why?"_

_"How's dinner sound? As I said, Bassam is expecting us." He watched his usually unflappable boss turn in circles as he tried to comprehend how neatly he had been flummoxed. "Then ... whatever catches our fancy." The eyebrow waggle was most definitely smug._

_Finally the captain caught the humour of the situation and surrendered to his fate._

_"Bassam's? It's been weeks. He's going to fuss. Maybe even cry." He threw his arm around Ianto's shoulders as they headed up the pier._

_"I was there with Tosh a week ago. He's going to fuss at you."_

_And Ianto was right._

_TWTWTW  
_

Spring twilight greeted Jack as he stepped outside. Glancing at the sky he felt a pang. He promised Ianto he would remember – it was not a difficult promise to make, but some days the remembering cut deep. The colours were as sharp as they had been that day. He could still see Ianto's hair tickled by the breeze, his brow in that permanent worried squint. He had kissed the lines away later. They'd had nothing but time that night, more than they'd ever had.

He fumbled for his handkerchief, feeling like a sentimental old man, touched to tears with his long-lost memories. He gave himself a mental shake and strode off, letting his head slowly fill with mundane trivialities, the memory of Ianto drifting into the peach-tinged clouds.


	2. The shave

**Summary: **Inspired by the song "These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)". Different ways that Jack remembers Ianto.

**Characters**: Jack H., Ianto J.

**Pairing**: Jack/Ianto

**Rating**: T

**Spoiler**: COE

**Setting**: Post-COE

**Warnings**: adult romantic theme.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters or plotlines, nor do I receive money from stories. Any similarity of OC's to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. Thanks as always to my muse, my friend and my talented beta, **Triquetralin**.

**A/N**: I'm posting these under one "theme" but the chapters can be taken as separate stories. Read the warnings for each one because they might have different info. I will try to keep each one no higher than T rating though, for consistency's sake.

**These Foolish Things- The Shave**

_Jack and Ianto had just come home from a rare long weekend vacation. Ianto had found a remote cabin in Snowdonia Park, which he booked with lofty ideas of daily hikes and informative nature watching. Jack, seeing the size of the bed had argued for locking themselves in and stepping out only for more firewood. He did concede to making as many animal noises as he could, to satisfy the young man's nature cravings. They compromised with 2 days in bed and one afternoon on a vigorous hike that filled them up with enough fresh air to give them the energy to spend their last night back in bed. Sleeping was done on the bus ride back to Cardiff._

_Now they dumped their packs full of dirty laundry in the front hall and made a bee-line for the huge claw-foot tub upstairs._

_As they relaxed in their second filling of the tub (the first becoming grey in moments), Ianto leaned against Jack's chest, sighing contentedly in the heat of the water, and his lover's body._

_Jack's fingers tickled through the 3 days growth of beard on Ianto's face._

_"I think I brought back a bear from the wilds."_

_Ianto hummed, too relaxed to comment, but then couldn't resist correcting a fact. "No bears in Wales."_

_"A badger then."_

_Ianto humphed in consent._

_"Speaking of badgers, have you ever had a proper shave?"_

_There was a long pause as the young man tried to put the two oddly paired ideas together – all he could think of was Badger from "Wind in The Willows" having a shave._

_"I shave," he said defensively, not quite sure if Jack was denigrating his hygiene habits. "You've never complained before."_

_He was given a hard squeeze of apology. "I'm not complaining. Just thinking. I want to give you a shave. A proper, straight-razor shave."_

_"Where do the badgers come in?"_

_"The brush is made from badger hair."_

_"Oh."_

_"What do you say?"_

_Ianto shivered slightly. It sounded decadent. Ever since puberty when he'd learned to shave himself, he had never once thought of having it done by someone else. Even when he went to the barber and saw someone laid back on their chair, neck and cheeks covered in lather, being razored so carefully, it hadn't even crossed his mind to see what it was like. Shaving was a necessary chore, often a pain, never really enjoyed and he couldn't imagine it being any different with a straight razor than an electric shaver._

_He'd watched Jack shave once, curious to see a straight razor in action up close, but the experience reminded him too much of childhood and watching his father shave, and he just didn't want to go down that road with Jack. He looked up to him enough as it was, didn't need him as a father figure._

_"Okay."_

_Jack's lips touched the tip of Ianto's ear. "It's wonderfully sensuous. You'll love it."_

_Ianto wriggled with delight._

_He wasn't feeling so delightful half an hour later. Dried and dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, he was reclining in his easy chair, it being the only seat that gave enough support and allowed him to stretch out. His face was swathed in a hot cloth and had been for nearly 10 minutes._

_"Why am I swaddled up like this?" His voice was muffled under the towel and he was starting to feel claustrophobic._

_"Hm?" Jack leaned over, peering into Ianto's impatient eyes._

_"Why the mummy treatment?" Ianto picked at the towel to be able to talk. Jack slapped his hands away._

_"To wet the beard ..."_

_"I'm still wet from the bath."_

_Jack continued. "... and to give me time to prepare the lather and razor. Stop fussing! This is supposed to be relaxing."_

_"Okay." Ianto closed his eyes and tried to breathe deep. He hadn't thought how much fuss it would be. It was perfectly okay for him to fiddle with details and get everything just so for Jack. That's the sort of task that relaxed Ianto. But sitting, quietly, patiently and having Jack – or anybody, for that matter – do for him, made him antsy with feelings of self-indulgence and laziness, two things that were taboos in his family._

_The towel finally came off and the air felt cool against his wet beard and skin. Jack stood over him, leaning against the leather recliner. He had a deep cup that he was stirring vigourously. He pulled out a lather-full brush and started painting the still warm soap on Ianto's cheeks and neck._

_"Ooo! Smells nice." Ianto smiled, then nearly sputtered as the brush swept against his lip._

_"Mouth closed." Jack instructed. "Can't get a word out of you at the best of times and when I want to shave you, you get chatty. You have only two duties right now: shush and enjoy!"_

_"Mm-mm!" Ianto clamped his lips closed and nodded, determined to let Jack do his thing._

_The brush didn't just smear the nicely smelling lather over his face, it was worked in with Jack making small digging circles with the brush over each area. When he had a nice layer he then used the brush to sweep it down evenly._

_It felt thick and silky, cool and warm all at the same time. There wasn't the tingle of modern, astringent shaving gels, or even the sharp scent, as a matter of fact. He closed his eyes and tried to discern what the soap reminded him of. It was rich and heady, almost musky, and he nearly snorted a dollop of it as Jack carefully swept the lather along his upper lip. Ianto realized it was Jack's scent that was intoxicating him._

_"It's sandalwood and ginger, if you must know," Jack chuckled. "I knew I should have used a different lather for you. You're going to get all horny and wriggly now."_

_Ianto shook his head emphatically, not wanting to have the lather changed. He would do his best to control himself._

_Jack slid a finger across Ianto's lips, then brushed the excess from around his nostrils, clearing the lather away. "Don't snort any more."_

_Ianto nodded, then shook his head, trying to convey just how quiet he was going to be._

_"And do stop waggling your head. I'm going to be using a very sharp implement." Jack caressed Ianto's hair, trying to soothe him. He knew Ianto didn't do "relaxed" very well. "Eyes closed, and breathe."_

_Ianto let himself go, trying to loosen every tight nerve. The scent of the lather, and Jack's touch soon calmed him. He felt a quick kiss on his forehead as Jack moved his hand away._

_"Ready?" Ianto just nodded once._

_Jack's sure, steady fingers touched Ianto's cheek, then there was the cool edge of the blade. It stroked one long steady sweep down his cheek. Pass after pass, the blade so light against his skin, he wondered if it was doing any work. He felt Jack's fingers holding his skin flat, or pulling it tight for a moment as the blade drew across, or he nudged Ianto's chin up as he swept down his neck almost to his collar._

_He wanted to open his eyes, but he decided to give himself over to the new sensations. He felt more and more of the lather, still wet and silky, being scraped off his skin. At one point he remembered the odd grimaces that Jack had made in his mirror when he shaved himself, and he wondered if he should be doing any of that, but Jack hadn't given him any directions yet, so he tried not to move._

_When he felt his face clear and cool, he opened his eyes. Jack smiled down at him and ran a warm, wet flannel over his face, wiping up the dots of lather left._

_"That was lovely!" Ianto beamed, starting to sit up and reach up to touch his face._

_"I'm not done." Jack, put a hard finger on Ianto's chest, pushing him back down into the seat._

_"Huh?" he said inelegantly._

_"That was the first pass. Two is preferable. One with the grain and one against. Remember: shush and enjoy. I'll tell you when you're done."_

_"Oh god," Ianto rolled his eyes but laid back again._

_"I have never seen anyone fight enjoyment with so much vigour before. See if I do this for you again." Despite the teasing tone, there was an undercurrent of disapproval and irritation._

_Ianto felt immediately contrite. He opened his eyes again, catching Jack's hand._

_"I'm sorry, Jack. Thank you for this. Really. I'll shush and enjoy." His eyes said what his lips couldn't; I love you._

_Jack gave him a long, searching look then nodded, his good-humour easily restored. "That'll be your mantra from now on. Shush and enjoy."_

_Ianto was still ashamed of being so ungracious. "I promise."_

_The lather was applied again, cooled slightly. This time Jack was moving the razor in a different direction, up instead of down, and across in some spots. Breathing deeper now, relaxed to a near trance, the scents and sensations triggered Ianto's desire. He became very aware of Jack's hip pressed into the recliner, his legs shifting to balance as he moved around Ianto's face, or his belly brushing against the top of his head as Jack bent over him._

_When Jack's hand moved away momentarily, Ianto tried for a casual leg stretch, letting his knees fall open. but his tight jeans hid nothing._

_He heard Jack's chuckle. "I am so not letting you get shaved at a barbershop. You'll have the place closed up for a scandal."_

_"Only if the barber is as good-looking as you."_

_"They're all old and smell of tobacco." Jack spoke between sweeps of the razor. "Why do you think I shave myself."_

_The warm flannel was applied again, wiping the soap away carefully, right down to Ianto's shirt collar. Then Jack's warm hands swept over Ianto's cheeks and neck rubbing in the silkiest moisturizer Ianto had ever felt. The massage made him groan with pleasure, arching slightly._

_Jack's hands stilled on Ianto's face. He opened his eyes, gazing into Jack's desire-shot eyes, the blue a thin circlet around his wide pupils. The sight made him gasp and he pulled the tall man down onto him on the recliner._

_"What do I owe you, master barber?" Ianto rubbed his silky smooth cheek against Jack's slightly rougher one._

_"I'm sure we can arrange a fair trade," Jack deep chuckle was cut off by Ianto's eager lips._

_TWTWTW  
_

A tear rolled down Jack's face, tickling into his ear, then another. His eyes closed, he let them fall, unwilling to disturb the barber from his job. He'd spied the tiny little shop and on a whim, directionless, he strode in asking for a shave. At the first touch of the thick lather, scented with sandalwood, the memories rushed in.

The old, dazed barber, newly arrived from Italy, knew not why this young man, with his old-fashioned shirt and braces – so reminiscent of the barber's grandfather who taught him his trade – was crying in his chair. He didn't even know enough English to ask, so he gently and silently wiped the tears away as he worked. Soon his own memories welled up in his eyes, but his hand was steady and sure.


End file.
